the love and the lies : bellatrix and voldemort
by MelissaLianne
Summary: oneshot, I think. rated teen for 'emotional' bits.


**A/N:** Mmm, I've wanted to do one of these for a while.

_**It's the honesty of these worlds  
Ruled by magic and mighty swords  
That makes my soul long for the past**_  
_Nightwish - Elvenpath_

"Teach me all about the love and the lies-  
And how there's no difference I will find."  
( Bellatrix & Voldemort ; oneshot. )

She was broken, twisting in mid-dimension like an unfixable marionette, before falling to the ground with a heavy thud. Bellatrix Lestrange had finally succeeded in killing Nymphadora Tonks, the child of Bellatrix's blood-traiting sister. Smirking, she slipped off before the half-blood, Remus Lupin, could whisper with his final breath such profanity, that it would cause even the silent corpses to stir. Tip-toeing over dead bodies and slipping sneakily past those fighting, she began to make her way out of the riot. A killing curse narrowly missed her, and she darted with the skill of a Quidditch player out of harms way. She had to find him - she had to see if anything had gone wrong...

Although, who was _she_ to judge his power? Of course he would succeed. It would be unspoken to even suggest such a thing, even if some of her fellow Death Eaters did share doubts - but no one would dream of saying them aloud. It was merely unthinkable. Sighing slightly, she held her robes aloft as she trudged towards the shrieking shack, were she knew he would be waiting. Not necessarily for her. For _him_. She sighed heavily. The Potter boy, who had caused The Dark Lord so much angst for the past sixteen years. But oh, that would all end today, when The Dark Lord reigned and controlled the wizarding world. She couldn't wait.

Slipping under the opening to the now mobile whomping willow, she tip-toed along the small corridor which soon lead to a stairway. The only sound audible was her controlled breathing, and the sound of her faint foot-steps. She had to be quiet; she knew what The Dark Lord would be doing. She paused at the doorway, her long hair framing her face, when she heard a strange, strangled hiss emit slowly a few feet in front of her. It was Nagini, she noticed, and the snake acknowledged her briefly, before sliding back to her master across the dust-covered wooden floor. Nagini whispered something to her master, who turned a fraction, and acknowledged his faithful Death Eater, with some resentment. After all, it was partly her fault that the boy had escaped Malfoy Manor. But the boy wouldn't escape tonight, oh no. His eyes flashed upon contemplating the person who had caused him so much grief, but subsided when she approached him.  
"I have disposed of Nymphadora Tonks," she reported in a superior cold tone, walking over to stand in front of the armchair which he was sitting upon. He gave a curt nod. "It is a start," he said softly, "Have you disposed of anybody else?"  
"Dolohov killed the Werewolf before I got chance to, my lord."  
"Dissapointing, Bellatrix. I hope you'll be prooving yourself out there a little later on."  
She bit her lip.  
"Bella," he said in a pleasant, quiet tone of voice, "Is there something troubling you?" She shook her head at his sudden enquiry, and his eyes narrowed. "Do not lie to me."

How could she possibly reveal the truth? She stared at the cracking flames, turning her back on him. It was only to her suprise when she felt two spider-like hands pull her backwards, and she found her self sitting upon his knee. Still she did not meet his eyes.  
"Would you like to play a game, Bella?" he said very softly, his eyes now calm rather than mad.  
"A game?" she questioned in an indifferent tone of voice, "I don't see how a game will help defeat the boy, my lord, but I'm open to possibility."  
He laughed quietly. "Ever the honest one, Bella. "This may be slightly muggle to you," he continued in a silky tone of voice, his fingers lacing around her hips, "But you swore allegiance and so you will do as I request."  
She did not reply, but gave the fraction of an obeying nod.  
"Truth or dare?"  
She stared at him, and he looked back imploringly.

"Truth," she replied uncertainly, unsure as to where he was going with this.

"You must tell me what is on your mind."

She should of known this was coming. She glanced distractedly around the room - anywere but his face - as she thought out her answer carefully. He could, if he wanted, delve into her mind and drag out each thought, one by one. Her husband, Rodolphus, was dead, and yet she felt no remorse. Whatever love she had once had for her husband had dissapeared into thin air. "Rodolphus is dead," she stated bluntly, "But I feel no pain or trouble for his passing." She forced herself to look into his eyes, which were now filled with rapt attention. "I ... my allegiance has always lain with you, My Lord. But mere allegiance has slipped past the border of marvelling respect we, your followers, have for you. What I'm trying to say is ... I love-"  
He placed a finger on her lips. "Do not finish," he said coldly, "For I wish to hear no more. I do not love, I do not cherish, I do not seek friendship with _anybody_. Surely you should know this, by now. I reward my faithful followers, but no more."  
She remained silent. She had known he would spout something like this.

He took advantage of her lack-of-muggle-knowledge to claim the next go. "Truth or Dare?"  
"Dare," she said softly, not looking at him.  
"Kiss me," he said.  
She stared at him now, he noticed with a smirk, and leant closer to him. She brushed her naturally glossy lips against his and for a moment, nothing else existed apart from this kiss. He responded a little more than he had intentionally planned as his tongue slipped into her mouth without invitation, and she gasped slightly as he retracted his kiss from her mouth to her neck, were it ended.  
"That was your reward," he said in a hard-to-define tone. "Now, Bellatrix Lestrange - go. Severus will be arriving any moment ..."  
Looking stunned, she rose to her feet, and almost ran out of the room, before pausing at the doorway. She bowed slightly. "My lord?"  
"Yes?"  
"Thank you," she whispered, with tear-filled eyes, before turning to go.

He almost wanted to call her back and continue the embrace, but he knew better. Power was more important than love.

The fight was worst than he could of expected.

As Mrs Weasley hit a suprisingly strong curse at Bellatrix, he realised he should of acted - he should of done something to save her. The last look on Bellatrix's face was that of suprise, and as she collapsed to the floor there was a stunned silence for a moment.

She was gone.

His faithful Death Eater, gone.

He did not love her, not even in times like these.

But he screamed for more reason than one on the last night of what he called life.

**A/N:** What do you guys think? :) Reviews loved.


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